Riding the Yule Tidal Wave
The changing seasons seem to bring new inspirations into earthlings’ yearly routines and daily rituals. Fall decrees a cool relief from the blazing summer sun, a colorful prelude to Winter wonders and the artistic touch they blissfully add to the hard frozen landscape. Dynamically rhythmic curves in wind driven snow drifts and dramatically transparent icicles have recently cast their frosty spells on the vivacious Steven family. A thrilling Halloween followed by a grand Thanksgiving primed and launched them into a jingled jangling jolly mood. Oozing Christmas cheer, Mark and Lisa Steven enjoy concocting marvelous fantasies for their exuberant children. So far they only have two, a spry pair, one named Sherry Ann and the other Mary Lee.
Mark is a gifted graphics illustrator, and Lisa writes divine stories for children. They are both very creative and have a knack for inspiring each other. They met when Lisa was interviewing artist to illustrate her stories. After examining their portfolios, she asked all the applicants a philosophical question; “If God is so powerful that he can do absolutely anything, why can’t he create a rock so big that he can’t pick it up?” When Mark replied, “Oh fair lady, God can make a rock so big that there is no place left to lift it up to,” Lisa retorted, “Yes, but then there would still be something that he couldn’t do, namely pick up the rock. “Then Mark countered with, “Well, if God chose to lift the rock, all he would have to do is create a new space above it,” and she hired him on the spot. The exuberant couple fell in love while collaborating on their first joint project, entitled “Mr. Duck Dude.” Mark and Lisa got married when their third book went into publication. They moved to a country cottage deep in a northern forest, and it wasn’t long until Lisa was with child or more accurately, with children. Shortly after the workmen finished the second story addition to their rustic hideaway, Lisa gave birth to identical twin girls with bright blue eyes and light blonde hair. The twins are seasonal creatures whose personalities as well as their hair, begin bleaching into higher hues in the spring and then slowly darken deep into richer tones after Autumn’s arrival. Charmed by a favorable fate, Sherry and Mary were appropriately named, since Mary Lee is a very merry child, and Sherry Ann, with her rainbow colored personality, ranging from seriously sweet to dramatically dry, seems destined to be a passionate influence on the world. Sherry and Mary have voices that always seem to harmonize with one another, even when their words do not. Mary is prone to attempt escaping from reality frequently, and Sherry generally tends to be as easily lured into frivolous play, as she is spurred into fervid dramatics. The their spontaneous parents’ entertaining behavior typically delineates ardor. Indeed, the artful clan’s overactive imaginations often mingle into whimsical folly.
Today is a special day for the elated Steven crew, and they’ve been looking forward to it all year long. It’s finally time to search the woods for the perfect Christmas tree. After breakfast, Lisa makes sure that the children, as well as Mark, are bundled up properly. They gather at the back door where Mark proclaims, “Somewhere out there, carefully hidden in that beautiful biosphere, is a magic tree just for us, so on with the incredulous quest,” and they all hit the trail with a lively step. Like a whispering phantasm, there’s hypnotic pine scent riding a crisp breeze, which is a gentle reminder of reality. They cross the lucid clearing and head toward an opaque thicket on the edge of the forest. The sun is shining gloriously and glistening on the freshly fallen snow that is a happy powder. They anxiously arrive at the forest’s secret entrance, a well-traveled deer path that promises a great adventure for searching souls.
As they march along through the majestic wilderness, fabulous folklore comes to mind, with certain relevance for the festive occasion. Sherry has a sudden revelation of previously unnoticed mystery and inquires, “Daddy, what kind of magic does the tree we’re looking for have?” “It can put holiday cheer into the air, dear,” he confidently responds. Sherry asks in a quandary, “How can it do that?” Mary’s attention is momentarily drawn from her own fabulous fantasies over to theirs. “On Easter Sunday friendly wood nymphs pick the most majestic saplings and enchant them,” retorts Mark. Mary serenely reflects upon this for a moment then stops in her tiny tracks and asks with intense concern, “How do you know when you have found an enchanted tree?” The vigorous pace of Mark’s resolute steps gradually slows down until he at last grinds to a complete halt on the path and in thought. His head drops, and his shoulders sag, while his eyes slowly turn toward Lisa, who is proud of her husband’s ingenuity up to this point. Lisa catches up with him, takes his wayward hand, gently pulls him back into motion with an empathetic tug, and exclaims, “Mary Lee, Sherry Ann, you have to trust your intuition, but you won’t know for sure until after it’s all trimmed and lit up.” With a rekindled spark in his eyes, Mark adds, “Then if you get that special holiday cheer deep down inside, you know that you have an enchanted tree,” and on that final note Mary is instantly transported back to a mystical land in her mind where marvelous thoughts roam.
With her innocently wishful thoughts drifting in an infinite sea of hopeful possibilities, Mary ponders significant mysteries, such as the legendary origins of life. Willing to logically entertain the validity of any reasonable explanation, she asks, “Where do Santa’s elves come from?” Mark and Lisa are momentarily stunned by the unexpected nature of the question, nevertheless impressed by its originality. The perplexed parents must rise to the mythical challenge with fantastic surrealism. While twirling haphazardly, Lisa loses her balance and tumbles face first into a snowdrift, wherein she conjures up an intuitive response to be treasured. In a tone of absolute certainty she declares, “On Christmas Eve the Holiday Spirit changes Christmas tree ornaments into elves with the amazing magic in love, and when Santa Claus goes to put presents under the tree, he will find his new dexterous bantam helpers.” Mark chuckles at his beloved mate floundering in the happy snow, who scrambles to her feet, slaps his behind, and scampers on ahead, while remarking, “Just like your father, elves may be small, but they’re hard workers and skilled craftsmen.” Joining in the delightful deception, before the children have a chance to doubt the obscure idea’s wisdom, Mark alleges, “The ornament needs an elf face painted on it, and the Christmas tree has to be enchanted and decorated just right to entice the Holiday Spirit into the house.” The awestruck children begin meandering, and never notice their observant father occasionally nudging them back on course. “That’s not all,” Lisa suddenly adds, with a suspenseful pause, as she twirls around to confront her lagging brood. Sherry who is now thoroughly intrigued, can’t resist the teasing lure on her mother’s face, and breaks the anxious silence yelling, “Tell us the rest Mom!” Lisa looks over her shoulder checking for unwanted eavesdroppers, draws her inquisitive offspring into a tight circle designed for revealing precious secrets, and whispers, “You have to write a name on the ornament because the Holiday Spirit won’t bring an elf to life without a name.” Their attention is abruptly redirected when Mark declares the discovery of a magically enchanted tree, and they all focus on the task at hand.
Later that night Mark breaks out the Christmas decorations, and the jubilant family sets about the chore of traditional tree trimming. The children seem to be taking special care in properly placing each symbolic item in just the right spot. When they are finished, Sherry makes an enthusiastic run for the light switch and turns out the lights. “Look, it’s a perfect tree exuding holiday cheer, so there’s no way the Holiday Spirit can resist it,” Lisa declares. Mary cries out emphatically, “We have to paint elves for Santa! He needs all the help he can get.” Sherry expands the noble notion, saying, “Besides, the more elves Santa has, the more toys they can make for us. And, they won’t have to work so hard doing it.” Somewhat surprised by the twins’ exuberant sincerity, Mark agrees to help them do the painting the next day if their mother will help them choose names for the elves that evening. Lisa is almost as entranced as the tingling children and commits herself to the odd project. By the end of the twilight hour, Mary has picked the name Noel for her elf, but Sherry can’t choose between Holly and Crystal. Lisa astutely comments that Crystal Holly sounds rather quaint. Sherry, although enraptured by this suggestion, instead chooses Holly Crystal as the name for her elf. With that dilemma adroitly resolved, Lisa sighs with relief and announces, “Now off to bed with the both of you, before Noctrina the good night fairy gets lonely.”
Sherry and Mary bounce spryly up the stairs, giggling about little girl things all the way.
Early in the morning artistic anticipation drives the children out of bed and down the stairs into their father’s art studio. He’s not there yet, so they rush back up the stairs to drag him out of his dream and into theirs. Mark’s adoration for his jubilant twins temporarily clouds his judgment; consequently, they are given extravagant supplies for their delightful project. “We’ll glue these around paper cups, and poke holes in the bottoms for the ornament hooks,” Mark explains, as he draws two classic elf faces with Indian ink on his best. When he’s done, the twins begin meticulously painting them with watercolors. The precocious pair, perhaps just slightly overly concerned about originality, carefully choose unique colors, which means a race for their favorites. Mark fumbles through a box on a corner shelf, glances at the busy duo, and resumes his dauntless search on a higher plain. “Ah ha, success” he exclaims with wide eyes. Then, exhibiting some small sense of accomplishment, he presents several twinkling jars, and patiently tells them, “You apply varnish just where you want the glitter to stick. Then you wait for it to dry before you do the places where you want to sprinkle on different colors. With a twinkle in her sparkling eyes, Sherry cries out, “Oh Daddy, now we can jazz them up, so they’ll be dazzling, just like Mother’s ornaments.” Mary immediately decides to highlight Noel’s brown hair with silver glitter, while after some reflection Sherry says, “Holly Crystal’s yellow hair needs the gold, and I’ll use red and green for the background.” Then Mary says, “I’m going to use silver and blue around the outside of mine, to match those new ornaments we got in town yesterday.” At last, shortly before dinner, the potential elves are gleefully hanging in the special Christmas tree.
Christmas Eve finally arrives, and when their parents come into their room to tuck them into bed, the children tell their mother that she should put out some extra milk and cookies for the elves to eat while they wait for Santa Claus. In the morning, Mark and Lisa Steven hear their children racing down to the Christmas tree, presumably to see what Santa has put under it. Before Mark and Lisa can manage to crawl out of bed, their children leap into it. Mary shouts, “The Holiday Spirit must have been here because the ornaments we made are gone!” Then Sherry says logically, “All the cookies are gone so they must have been hungry.” The twins take a brief break for a few rejuvenating gasps then draw one long breath just before screaming, “Toys,” in unison. Then faster than they sprang in, the twins leap up, spring out the door, and scamper back downstairs. Whether they realize it or not, the clever twins have mastered a devious ploy.
“You know if one of us doesn’t get down there pretty soon, they’re liable to start without us,” Lisa warns Mark with a pretty grin. Mark agrees as he tickles her out of bed and on to the kind old rug, where she stops just out of his reach, and short of the cold redwood floor. Lisa darts for the slippers and manages to get three of the four away from Mark’s reach. Laughing triumphantly, Lisa heads for the bathroom, from where she poignantly asks, “You know, my love, this slipper is going downstairs, with or without you, don’t you?” Mark has to laugh a little from the safety of the rug. Then he retaliates by saying, “What I know, is that your just trying to evade an inquisition about sneaking downstairs and eating those cookies when you took the ornaments off the tree last night, aren’t you, my sweet?” Keeping a safe distance from the smug prankster dancing on the altruistic rug, and making her way to the sanctuary of her antique vanity, Lisa scoffs at the idea, warning, “Now you see here, dear!” while shaking a hair brush at him. Mark just smiles and stares at her adoringly, since he is willing to leave the puzzle unresolved, but Lisa is not, and she scoffs at him while saying, “Oh, I see, besides not sharing the cookies, you’ve hidden the girls ornaments. Are you going ransom them for favors?” Lisa probes suspiciously. Their banter is disrupted, by rejoicing Christmas carols reverberating throughout the house when Mary tunes in an appropriate radio station. Soon they are gathered around the special Christmas tree opening presents and finding their hearts’ desire. The Steven’s band has found something extra special in the true meaning of Christmas while riding the Yule tidal wave.
The End
by Mark Alan Holcomb
Copyright © Artstarbird 2017